Jesse & Xavier
54 THER
Mike Crum
"You can't buy that, you're underage. You'll have to
get you father," said the old cashier. He reached over
the wooden counter and patted me on my bruised back.
I gasped as the cashier lifted up the back of my shirt.
"Oh my gosh, what happened?" he asked. "Nothing."
I sadly replied. This had happened before, but I always
gave a fake answer like I fell down the stairs. The old
cashier sat down on the wooden chair that held open the
door. I started to walk out. The old man said, "Now, don't
forget to bring back your father" When I got back to the
old grey house that I called home, my father was sit-
ting in the grungy chair, watching TV. "They wouldn't
let me buy it," I said. My father got up and said angri
Ly. "Fine." He put on his black cost and said, "Come on,
let's go." We walked down the wide concrete sidewalk.
As we walked into the old liquor store, the cashier
said. "I see you've brought your father." I walked back
to the aisle with the beer with the blue and red label. I
brought it back to the wood counter. As my dad pulled
out his money, a police officer with a dark blue suit
and shiny badge walked in the door. My dad paid the
cashier with the wrinkled twenty-dollar bill. The offi-
cer walked up to my father and asked, "Is this you son?"
My father nodded in response. The officer asked my
father to accompany him down to the station. My father
looked back at me and glared. That was two months ago.
Now my brother and I live with a foster family. My
father is in jail and is seeing a counselor. But can I
really call this man my father? Jordan Greenhalgh
Fist k
Matt Rodriguez